The beginning

The mist in the air was cool when Lynn stepped out of the front door of her house in the woods. She yawned and rubbed her arms for warmth, surveying her property and the wilderness beyond and admiring the mist that clung to the shadows.

This was hers now. All hers.

Riley would hate this place, she thought to herself (not for the first time) and smirked with grim satisfaction.

The scent of pine was heavy in the air, as well as the smell of firewood burning in her own fireplace. Lynn put her ash blonde hair up with a worn blue bandana and checked on the small garden on her porch: a collection of hanging planters, pots of every size, and full raised garden beds that created short walls for the front of the porch. She had small herbs for now, but visions of roses, moonflowers, carnations, and tiger lilies (her favorite), along with pumpkins, tomatoes, snap peas, and cucumbers danced across her imagination and she was determined to make it a reality. It would feel good to make something so tangibly alive.

The sound of the falls in the distance caught her ear, and she decided to have her morning coffee on the bank of the lake that lay beneath the crashing waters. Grabbing her cup, she went to the kitchen, put together a basket full of her own homemade muffins, and strode out down the gravel strewn path and into the hushed low-light of the woods, dripping pine nettles close on either side.

Lynn thought as she walked, remembering; her last encounter with her mother had been a breaking point and just thinking about it set her teeth on edge. The implication that Lynn’s relationship with Riley was her fault: the abuse, the cheating, the depression. No. She refused to take blame and she doubly refused to let her thoughts be dragged back there. That had been a year ago and might as well have been forever.

At a bend in the way, the path suddenly opened to the grey morning light and the falls came into view, a panorama as magnificent as ever. Her favorite boulder, flat-topped and hip-height, was where it always was, touching the water and providing a splendid view of both the falls and the lake. She climbed up and plopped down, the motion comfortably familiar.

Today however, she stopped, surprised by the presence of a tall, lithe figure fishing silently off of the bank, obviously wandering in their own mind.

She gathered her bearings quickly and called out, “Hey! Nice day for trespassing, right?”

She never got an answer to her question, as the man jumped back in his surprise and promptly slipped on the wet rocks; his head and feet quickly exchanged places and, just as quickly, he crumpled in an unconscious heap.

Lynn shook her head, sighing, and walked over to attend to the clumsy trespasser.

Maybe I should’ve just left well enough alone and let the man do his damn fishing.

It was late morning and Lynn had just collapsed on her sofa, a dirty sweaty mess.

All told, it had taken three trips to get the man back to her house.

When she’d initially tried to support and carry him, she’d discovered to her dismay that the son of a bitch was quite a bit heavier than he appeared.

So she’d gone back to her shed, gotten a wheelbarrow, and discovered to her further dismay that the son of a bitch was quite a bit longer and lankier than he appeared. His hands and feet dragged the ground as she pushed the wheel barrow.

So she’d gone back to the shed, grabbed an old sled and some rope, tied the heavy, lanky son of a bitch to the sled, and dragged his Sleeping Beauty ass the whole way back.

Three trips. She was tired and not happy.

It was this general disgruntlement that let her rationalize going through the man’s satchel. She found a small pouch of nuts and dried fruit, a few rolled and wax-sealed documents, and a single cream-colored business card, the texture as much like stiff cloth as paper. It was oddly blank and she turned it over to see a matching nothing on the other side. Upon turning it back over however, there was now a single blood-red “X” on the front, much to her surprise. Beyond the unease that the sudden change itself invoked, she felt an ambiguous dread settle in her chest upon looking at the red mark, though she couldn’t say why.

She quickly put the card back in his wallet and put it in the bag that he’d had with him, her curiosity and indignation sated enough to keep her from further digging through his bag. She put his fishing pole up against the wall next to hers by the front door, giving it a quick once over first and admiring the solid wood and the intricate carvings along its length.

Dusting her hands, Lynn walked over to the door to her room and rapped lightly on the door, before opening it. Her mystery guest still slept on her bed, his breathing slow and even, his wavy auburn hair a halo around his head. It was odd seeing someone else in her bed, but she didn’t really have anywhere else to keep him besides the floor, and that just seemed rude for a potentially concussed person.

“Hit your noggin pretty hard, huh, big guy?” she sighed. She hadn’t had visitors...in a while, and she wasn’t sure what the protocol was for this situation. Did she wake him up and send him on his way? Make him dinner? Invite him for a drink?

Quietly leaving the room, she set to handling various tasks about the house. She had cleaned her few dishes and relit her fire (which had perished without her attention during the man-dragging operation), when she heard a knock at her door, prompting her to groan in frustration. This was too many visitors in one day and she made a note to herself to contemplate the logistics of putting up a bunch of signs around the area warning about a witch or an ogre or something more frightening like a rifle.

She fixed her face with an annoyed expression (which took very little schooling at this point in her day) and opened her door to a slender pale man dressed in black, with a brimmed black hat upon his head. His beetle black eyes peered down at her from deep set sockets and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

“Where is he?” he said, the words coming out in a silky whisper that reminded her of slithery things in dark places.

“‘H..he?’ she replied, forcing herself to meet his gaze, “‘He’ who? What’s the name of the person you’re looking for?”

The man in black smiled and she wished he hadn’t.

“You do not want to toy with me, Lynn Cartwright,” he said. “Where is he?”

“He’s right here,” came a warm voice with an odd, lilting brogue behind her and she spun around to find her guest awake and standing behind her, looking steadily at the man on her porch. “What need do you have of me, Skullcap?”

“Leaf,” Skullcap replied, drawing out the name in an oily smear. “Good to see you. How long has it been now?”

“Not long enough.”

Skullcap’s grin stretched wider. “I’ve come to collect, Leaf.”

Lynn looked back to Leaf, as his eyes narrowed. “That contract is no longer valid and our business is done.”

“The contract was activated again, mere hours ago.”

Now Leaf looked confused. He thought for a second and then snapped his attention to Lynn. “Please tell me you didn’t dig through my personal things.”

“Uh...well...sure, it sounds bad when you put it that way...”

Leaf groaned into his hand. “Skullcap, clearly this is just some sort of misunderstanding. I’ll work this out with the lady here.”

“Leaf, Leaf,” said the man in black. “There are rules and they have been invoked. I don’t make them. Misunderstanding or not, we have business, you and I. Have your conversation, but we will have our own talk, beneath the midnight moon in the Speaking Space.” So saying, he turned around and walked silently toward the woods and the long shadows of the growing dusk.

The two watched silently until Skullcap was no longer visible and then Leaf turned to Lynn. “Why would you go through a stranger’s things?” he demanded.

“Why would a stranger be on my land?” Lynn countered. “I needed to know who you were.”

“Your land?! I’ve been around here for...a very long time. Long before this house was even here.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that this is my property! Also doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t told me who you are.”

Leaf scoffed. “You people and your property. As if you could own the earth. It’s not a trinket or bauble that you put in your closet. It lives and it breathes and when you die, it’ll still be here. As for who I am,” he continued, cutting off Lynn’s confused retort with a raised hand. “I’m Etraen Greenleaf, Leaf for short. I’ve…managed the forest around here since long before you were born. I’ve known all of the tenants of this house, some well and some in passing.”

That statement finally penetrated Lynn’s wall of exasperation and something occurred to her then. “I was told this house was over 100 years old.”

“Indeed. I remember when it was built. Lovely man, he grew-“

“It’s not possible,” she interrupted, her frustration and skepticism obvious on her face.

“How do you know? You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Not…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a deep sigh. “You’re impossible. Both in how much you’re irritating me and in somehow being alive over a hundred years ago. You look just a bit too good for your age, if that’s the case.”

“That would depend on what I am.”

Lynn had picked up a watering can and was dousing her flowers; she stilled. “And…what are you then?”

“A forest spirit. And I’m old even by that reckoning.”

She looked at the man then that had been staying in her house, really looked at him. Clearly, he wasn’t mentally well. Was he dangerous? “Look…I don’t-“

“You let the rose bush die.” Leaf pointed at it, incredulous. “That bush was almost as old as the house!” He walked over to it and examined one of the brown leaves.

“It…was already in bad shape when I got here. I’ve tried watering it, fertilizing it, but…” she shrugged and edged surreptitiously toward the front door.

“Hm. Well, it would seem it’s not totally lost. Yet. Let’s see.” He raised his hand and the bush quickly shifted from dying to verdant, its leaves turning a lush dark green with full dark pink roses sprouting out. It was the most beautiful rose bush that Lynn had ever seen, almost alien in its vigor.

She froze and swallowed.

She needed a moment to process this. With what she just saw, either he was what he said he was or she was just as crazy as him.

Finally, “So…a forest spirit?”

Leaf smiled. “Aye. Now. We have Skullcap to deal with.”

“‘We?’ What do you mean ‘we?’” Lynn looked out to the forest where the man in black had gone. “And who is he exactly?” She turned back to Leaf to see him surprisingly grim faced.

“He is a very old acquaintance of mine.”

“And he’s not good?”

“He’s not good or bad. He simply is. He and I are more similar than you might think.” He turned his eyes to the setting sun. “Well. You don’t have to come tonight, but it would very much be in your best interest. If you are coming, you should probably eat something.”

“Are you going to eat?”

“I have a bit of food for myself in my bag. Unless you ate that too.”

“I’ll never hear the end of that, will I?”

Leaf grinned at that. “Never ever,” he said.

Rolling her eyes, she went into the kitchen and came out with a sandwich a few minutes later. There were a million reasons, she knew, that she shouldn’t go with a strange magical man to meet a stranger magical man in the forest at midnight. She placated herself by listing them off in her mind.

And yet, she still knew that she would go anyway.

There was magic here, real magic like she’d read about in countless books and she knew that she would regret not accompanying her guest; something in her blood called for her to go.

After a couple of bites from her sandwich, Lynn had to ask: “Will I be safe? If I…go with you tonight?”

Leaf regarded her for a moment. “You will be as safe as it is within my power for you to be.” He paused. “But nothing is ever truly safe. Especially when something is worth doing.”

She considered this, chewing slowly, and finally nodded. He wasn’t wrong.

They stepped out of the house and then from out of the cover of the porch into bright moonlight, a greyish-blue hue draped upon the world. Leaf paused.

“This’ll be a bit of a walk. Follow me and make sure not to wander off.”

“Why, what’ll happen? I’ll disappear, never to be heard from again?” Lynn’s tone was light and teasing, but Leaf’s reply had none of the same playfulness.

“Very possibly.”

They walked in silence for a while after that, Leaf in the lead, and Lynn wondered at the path as it slowly became more and more foreign. She had spent countless hours in the woods surrounding the house, but she didn’t remember any of them looking or feeling as dense, dark, or wild as this. The forest and even the darkness began to have a sentient feel, an enormous amalgamated titan, very aware of the small creatures traveling through its veins.

She finally broke the silence. “Where are we? I’ve never been to this part of the forest.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You wouldn’t have. Once upon a time, the whole forest was like this, but the ancient magic has retreated and consolidated. It’s still a much larger area than you would guess, but humans aren’t generally given leave to enter. Too much distrust there.”

“Distrust?”

“You’ve had dealings with your fellow humans. Would you trust most of them with your safety?”

“…no. Why am I here then?”

“Well, this situation is unique and some of the fault lies with me for being a clumsy fool.” He turned to look at her. “And some lies with you for not keeping your hands to yourself. But beyond that, I have a good feeling about you…and I’m very rarely wrong.”

“And you’re so humble too. Does that mean you trust me?”

“Hm. We’ll see. Speaking of trust…it would be in both of our best interests for me to handle most of the conversation with Skullcap. There are rules and laws in play that you are not familiar with. Remember that if I wasn’t interested in keeping you from harm, I wouldn’t be taking this meeting. I’d simply let you die.”

“That seems a bit extreme.”

“You’re human. It wouldn’t exactly be frowned upon.”

The trees suddenly parted in front of them, revealing a freestanding stone archway, flanked by two rose bushes. As they approached, Leaf said, “As a fair warning, this will sting a bit.” He was correct: despite purposely giving the bush to her left a wide birth, it somehow reached out, and Lynn felt the prick of a thorn in her forearm.

“Ow!”

“Well, I did warn you. This is an ancient place and it has rules from the Old Law. It’s not possible to enter the Speaking Space without a blood offering.” He held up his own hand, which was also bleeding. “Lots of blood use, in the Old Law.”

“Yeah, well, a more descriptive warning would have been nice,” Lynn grumbled.

They continued through the doorway and Lynn gasped, forgetting entirely about the thorn prick. Leaf had mentioned that the place was ancient, but she hadn’t expected how strongly its age would feel. The air was thick and alive and the stars overhead shone in a way that was unencumbered by human influence.

The clearing was circular and squared-off stone pillars marked with worn symbols ran along its inside edge; the pillars were as tall as the trees and at least three times as wide as a person, covered with moss and lichen and blackened with the passage of time. From each pillar, a line of large flat flagstones ran along the ground towards the center of the clearing and a circular stone platform, topped with a stone seat, facing them. And in the seat sat Skullcap, watching them with silent interest.

“Punctual as always, Skullcap,” Leaf said, beginning a leisurely walk towards the platform. At his subtle beckoning, Lynn followed.

“Death balances on ticks of seconds and grains of sand, Leaf. Punctuality is intrinsic.” His smooth voice flowed through the clearing like the shadows of the trees. He turned his gaze on Lynn. “I see you have come, Lynn Cartwright.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, about that. How do you-“

“I know all of the names listed on the Index of Silence.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lynn saw Leaf tense.

“Index of...” she began.

“Of Silence, yes. The Scroll of the Dead.” Skullcap bridged his fingers and settled the weight of his chin in their support. Deep in the shadows of his gaze, his eyes shone. “The list of those soon to begin their journey to the other side.”

After a moment of shock, Lynn managed to whisper, “I...I’m going to die?”

“Of course. An eventual fate of every human and every other type of mortal being. But to clarify your question, yes, you will die here, tonight, as the old magic requires.”

Again, Lynn found herself speechless for a moment, before replying, “Well...fuck that.”

Leaf cleared his throat beside her and she startled, so caught up in her exchange that she’d mostly forgotten that he was there.

“About that, Skullcap.” He stepped in front of Lynn and his strong leanness was a comforting contrast to the lankiness she’d perceived when he had been draped across her wheelbarrow. “This was clearly a mistake and there are plenty of exceptions in the Old Law for -“

“Exceptions for mistakes made by one of the Enduring. She has placed herself on the Index, Leaf. There can be no exception. The Law is the Law.”

“Well. There can be one exception.”

Skullcap narrowed his eyes. “That does not apply. She is not -“

“Lynn Cartwright, by the light of the moon and the witness of the trees, I hereby appoint you as an envoy to myself, Etraen Greenleaf, Shepherd of the Growth and Lord of the Coming Spring.”

There was a sudden flare of heat where the thorn had pierced her, a not-quite-uncomfortable feeling that flowed up her arm and through her body; Lynn closed her eyes until the feeling passed and when she opened them again, she was startled to see a good deal more: flower blooms glowed purple and cerulean throughout the clearing, eyes of every imaginable shape and size gazed at her from the trees and the surrounding underbrush, and the stars shown more luminous than she had ever seen.

On the stone seat, Skullcap trembled in barely concealed rage. “You arrogant ember of a dying fire. The Old Law is not to be made a mockery of! You threaten the balance of everything!”

Leaf’s calm, amiable composure did not change. “I mock nothing. I have broken no laws. I’m sure she’ll make a marvelous envoy.”

“A human has never -“

“There’s a first time for everything, old friend. But I believe our business here is done.” He turned to Lynn. “May I take you home?”

“Please.”

And they left the clearing, through the same doorway they’d entered, Skullcap watching them in seething silence.